Never Let Me Go
by Askeebe
Summary: A series of vignettes from FemShep and Thane's lives, featuring moments that aren't in the games and give more depth to their relationship. Mainly Shrios, but some of Thane/Irikah.
1. Chapter 1 - Honor

_Honor your parents._

_Honor our hosts and saviors._

_Honor the gods._

_Honor yourself._

Such simple words, yet they held so much meaning. One could spend hours contemplating the full meaning of each of those strictures, but Thane always felt the most difficult one to understand was the last one. Honor yourself.

What did it truly mean? How could he honor himself when he was but a tool of the hanar? His parents were only a dusty memory, covered in the nostalgic patina of young childhood before drell recall fully took hold. He remembered bits and pieces, enough to honor their memory, to try and adhere to their teachings and guidance across the years.

Honor the hanar, the saviors of the drell race. That one, at least, was easy to understand. If it hadn't been for the hanar all those centuries ago, the drell would be extinct, or reduced to a primitive race struggling to survive on a dying world. His entire life was lived in honor to their saviors, given to the Compact when just a child to do for them what they could not. He considered the successful execution of his contracts the highest possible form of service to the race that his people owed so much.

The gods were trickier. He had never had much faith. Sometimes, just before the final trigger squeeze or when he had his prey cornered, a prayer to Amonkira would come unbidden to his lips, for his hands to be steady and his aim to be true, but it never reached his heart. He knew he would enter Kalahira's domain one day, but with the arrogance of youth, he ignored the fact. He was too good to fail now. His teachers, his handlers, even he knew that he was one of the best assassins in recent history. One day, Kalahira, but not now. Arashu held his attention least of all. What did he need with the goddess of motherhood and protection? It was his victims who needed her succor. No, he was Amonkira's living avatar, a finely honed tool of death, lovingly and painstakingly crafted to perfection, used thoughtfully, given his due and recognized for his superb skills.

At least, that's how he had thought a few months ago. Now his world was turned upside down. Arashu apparently did not take being scorned well.

Honor yourself. His thoughts skipped back to the beginning. What did it mean to honor himself when he was a tool, no matter how painstakingly created? And what happened when that tool broke? For the first time in his life, Thane was lost. It was bad enough that Arashu had taken a personal interest in his life, sending one of her sihas to strike him down in a way he hadn't even been able to imagine. And then, to have this delicate, yet fierce beauty accept him, to hold him. It was beyond compare.

Thane stared unseeing at the endless rain rolling down the environment dome as his mind flashed back. _So nervous. She's going to kiss me. Soft lips, eyes closed, the scent of summer flowers and spice. Her lips touch mine, and a thrill goes through me so strong my heart skips a beat. Stolen kisses in the Guild can't compare to this_.

Fast forward a month. _The hanar are angry. My oldest teacher understands. He is the most spiritual of all of them, and he knows how the old gods move. I've tried to honor our hosts and saviors, but my mind is elsewhere. I dwell on the texture of her skin, the taste of her mouth on mine, the feel of her underneath me. I count the hours until I can see her again. I know I shouldn't, but I can't stay away._

His memories flash to this morning. It's the reason he's sitting here, as high as he can get inside the environment dome. As isolated as he can manage without going outside. _She's happy when she sees me. Her arms crush me tight. She tells me of the child within her. My world twists until it's no longer recognizable. Arashu is laughing at me_.

A child. He still could not comprehend it. So naive, he berated himself. His training included the basics of biology and reproduction, but the Guild was a nearly monastic order. Relationships were strongly discouraged. The instructors stepped in with more drastic measures if the couple refused to heed the warnings. Thane had experienced his share of stolen kisses and fumbled gropes in back hallways, but they never meant anything beyond fulfilling curiosity. When he had graduated as a fully trained assassin, he had availed himself of the occasional prostitute after completing a mission. But nothing in his entire life compared to the way that Irikah made him feel. Just the touch of her hand would electrify him, and the way she looked at him, as if she saw through the carefully constructed barriers around his heart and soul, and yet, she loved him anyway. He would dedicate his life to her love and protection. At least, he would in the abstract. But now, faced with the imminent arrival of their child, he was panicking. He had failed the last two missions the hanar had sent him on because he hadn't been able to focus. Now it was even worse. Would he be reduced to menial labor just to afford a roof and food for his new family? Babies were expensive, and they were so helpless.

He looked down at his hands. Automatically, they curled around an imaginary sniper stock and trigger. Slowly he reshaped them to hold an imaginary baby. How could he do this? He knew less about babies than the children playing in the parks. At least they had brothers and sisters. All he'd ever had was the Guild and his training. He had killed before most drell had their first kiss. While his cohort was idolizing pop singers and getting skinned knees, he was learning six different ways to kill turians, humans and krogans and sinking thousands of rounds into practice targets. His entire life had been training for one purpose...to kill. Yet he could still create life, as Arashu reminded him so bluntly.

There had never been any question of stopping the pregnancy. Not with the drell so reduced in numbers. Every child was a blessing, no matter how it was conceived. Thane could step away, return to the Guild, send Irikah his contract money. They would never want for anything. Her family would support her and help take care of the child, and soon enough she would find someone else. A beautiful woman who was also fertile was highly desired.

Thane's hands clenched into fists at the thought of his Irikah with another man. Stepping away may be the prudent thing to do, but for him it was impossible. He loved her. His unborn child scared him to death, but he refused to back down. Somehow he would make it work. He was a sword honed to a razor's edge, but a sword could be remade. It would never completely lose its character, but it could be put to other uses. So what if the edge became blunted. That would make it safer for a child to grasp. He would still be a sword, only now turned to protection, standing guard against the dangers of the world.

Decisions needed to be made, actions taken. Skulking on an isolated rooftop was no longer a viable option. With silken grace, Thane rose to his feet. It was time to talk to the hanar. He needed to request his release from the Compact. He had honored them his entire life, but now he must honor himself and take responsibility for the life that he had kindled inside Irikah. His duty lay elsewhere now. A child. His child. He would be a father.

There, on that flat rooftop under the rainy dome, he swore to Arashu and his unborn child that he would always protect his new family. With new determination in his shoulders, he strode to the lift that would take him back to the Guild, back to where his new life would begin.

* * *

A/N: My first publication. Comments welcome. Features vignettes that are mostly related to a larger story I'm working on, but may branch into alternate story lines. I don't have a beta, so please forgive any mistakes. I take full ownership. If someone is interested in helping out, I would adore you and offer you cookies.


	2. Chapter 2 - Haze

"Haze"

Morinth smiled at Shepard. It was a predator's smile, full of teeth and the promise of danger. It was a smile that beckoned you in, even as you realized that behind that lovely smile was nothing but death. Shepard looked into Morinth's eyes gone suddenly black. "You want to kill for me," Morinth purred seductively.

Morinth's aura was overwhelmingly magnetic, and Shepard could feel her lips soundlessly repeat Morinth's words. She tried to shake her head. Something was wrong. There was a haze over her thoughts that kept things from connecting, but she was sure there was only one pair of bottomless black eyes that she could trust implicitly, and they didn't belong to Morinth. But whose were they? Black and green. Why did those two colors go together? She frowned as she tried to track back the thought, but she was interrupted by Morinth dragging her fingers along Shepard's arm. The touch was light, warm, and seductive. Like her smile, it promised worlds of decadent delight if only she would surrender her will to the impossibly beautiful creature in front of her.

Morinth's fingers lit a trail of fire along her arm, over her shoulder and along her neck. One finger traced a line down Shepard's chest and into the vee of her low-necked dress. Morinth leaned close and purred into her ears. "Tell me what you want, love. Tell me what you'll do for me." Then Morinth pressed a searing kiss into Shepard's neck, finding the most sensitive spot below her ear. Shepard moaned and tilted her head back, exposing her neck to the predator as heat pooled in her belly and curled tantalizingly downward. The haze settled pleasantly over her mind, pushing away everything except the warm hands on her body and the skilled lips on her neck.

She loved this feeling, the one of being touched, of feeling alive again. For too long, she had lived without the magic of touch, and she missed it. She loved the way his hands worshipped her body, the endearments he whispered in her ear. He! Not Morinth! Who was he?

Morinth's hand cupped her breast and her thumb brushed over Shepard's nipple, drawing a gasp from her. She wanted to pull Morinth closer, but alarm bells were going off somewhere deep inside. This was wrong; she knew it. Only one man could kiss her and make her feel like that. A man! Not an asari! She couldn't put a name or face to him, but she remembered a muscular body in shades of green. What was wrong with her?

"No." Shepard's voice was slurred, the word barely recognizable, but she got it out. She opened her eyes and saw Morinth's obsidian eyes only inches from her own.

"Hush, love," Morinth whispered against her lips as her hand slid down ever so slowly over Shepard's stomach. "I can show you pleasures you've never dreamed existed. I will make you burn with desire and fill your world until only I exist, and you will worship me with every breath for the delights I will give you. You are magnificent, and I will treasure you always."

Shepard could feel her resolve faltering under Morinth's honeyed words. Her body wanted that pleasure so badly. The warmth was turning into flames that would consume her. She knew she was playing with fire, but it was so tempting. Morinth touched her intimately, and Shepard gasped. Her touch was electrifying and sent shock waves through her belly and out through her fingers, but there was something missing. There was no emotional connection, only lust. Shepard wanted more. She'd had more.

Love. That's what Shepard wanted, and the mysterious man on the edges of her hazy thoughts would give her that. He had made promises, too. Promises about serving her, body and soul, about loving her, loving more than once in a lifetime. Such a tragic figure, so sad, but also strong. He had obsidian eyes as well, but his were gentle. When she looked into his eyes, she knew she was safe.

"No," she said again, and this time she pushed Morinth's hand away. "Not you. Never you."

Morinth closed the last inch between them and her lips possessed Shepard's. The asari could see her control slipping, and she was determined to make Shepard forget the man who stole into her thoughts. Morinth's body was warm and pliable against Shepard, pressing her into the couch. Her hand would not be denied as it brushed against Shepard's inner thighs and again brushed her so intimately and skillfully.

Shepard was desperately trying to paint in the mysterious man's face and recall his name. His lips were full and sensuous, and when they kissed it wasn't like this. He didn't plunder and punish. His kisses were tender and passionate. He gave as much as he took, unlike Morinth. The more she concentrated on this mystery man, the more the haze lifted. She could see his eyes, his lips, his face now. He wasn't human and for a moment, she was confused. Drell. That was his species, but what was his name?

Shepard worked both hands between her and Morinth's bodies and pushed as hard as she could. What should have sent the other woman flying across the room instead only pushed her back a few inches. "What did you do to me?" Shepard gasped out.

"I'm giving you what you want," Morinth said. The lilt was gone from her voice, replaced with a harsh rasp. Shepard could see the signs of arousal in the asari's face, the determination to continue.

"I don't want you," Shepard said. "I want Thane!" She nearly gasped in relief as his name came back to her.

"No, you're mine," Morinth growled and pressed back down on her. Morinth grabbed her wrists, and the two writhed on the couch fighting for control.

Shepard flinched as the door crashed open. A tall, regal asari wearing skintight red leather stood framed in the doorway. "Samara!" she called, but that was the only word she could get out before Morinth backhanded her hard and sprung to her feet.

Mother and daughter engaged each other in a vicious close quarters fight. Shepard staggered to her feet and leaned against the couch. She could only watch and wait to see who would be victorious. The biotic energy being loosed in the room turned furniture into matchsticks and made Shepard's hair stand on end. In the end, they were too evenly matched. They strove against each other, Samara versus Morinth, and each called for her to help. Samara's voice was calm, trusting that Shepard would do the honorable thing. Morinth's voice, however, slid along Shepard's ragged nerves, tempting and reigniting the desire that was smoldering just below her skin. Fortunately, it only took a small advantage for Samara to overpower her daughter, because that was all Shepard was capable of doing, but it was enough to tip the balance. With one last devastating punch, Samara ended her daughter's life.

The fog was clearing from Shepard's mind, but she was still unsteady on her feet. "Samara?" she asked quietly.

"Have pity on an old warrior, Shepard. I have just killed the brightest and most courageous of my daughters." Samara would never shed a tear, at least not in public, Shepard knew, but she could feel the despair in the Justicar's spirit.

Shepard put an arm around the woman. "Let's go home, Samara."

They supported each other through the filthy corridors of Omega. Shepard's mind was wandering as they walked. She would see a Blue Suns merc leaning against a doorway and would think of Morinth's smooth skin. She'd blink and they were somewhere else. They passed a darkened alleyway and she heard the unmistakable sound of passion, raw, ugly, bought and paid for, and she felt again how Morinth had forced passion onto her, and she shuddered. Vaguely, she heard Samara talking to someone, but it was too hard to focus on the words. The voice was familiar, and eventually she put a name to it. EDI. The ship. The Normandy. And there it was, gleaming outside the portholes in the docking ring.

Samara supported her as they went through the decontamination cycle. The doors opened, and Shepard's heart flip flopped as she saw the dark eyes and green lips that had pulled her from the abyss only moments earlier. "Thane?"

"Siha," he answered and his strong arms were around her waist. "What happened?" he demanded of the Justicar.

The Justicar looked at the Commander with sadness filling her expressive eyes. "I suspect Morinth dosed her with Hallex to make her easier to manipulate. Will you help her, Thane? I need...I need time to meditate. I have fulfilled my duty, but it has left a wound on my heart."

Thane inclined his head toward the grieving woman. He didn't know all the details, but ship's scuttlebutt supplied enough that he had an idea that the mission had been deeply personal. He looked down at the human in his arms, seeing how her eyes were dilated, her cheeks and lips unnaturally flushed, incipient swelling on her cheek and lips, scratches on her neck and chest, and how her dress was subtly twisted as if someone had been wrestling with her. The signs were clear to a trained eye. Memories of Irikah threatened to surface, and he ruthlessly forced them down. Someone had forced themselves upon his siha, but only superficially. Shepard was alive and unhurt. He could learn the details later, and if Samara had left the perpetrator alive, Thane promised he would rectify the situation as soon as his siha was safe.

Shepard was clinging to him like a drowning woman. "Thane, I missed you," she whispered. "Don't leave me again."

His arm tightened around her. "Never, siha," he whispered in return as he guided her to the elevator. As soon as the doors closed behind them, Shepard pressed her body against his and twined her arms behind his neck. With the low heeled shoes she was wearing, she was nearly his height, and she only had to lean in to press her lips against his. She moaned into his mouth and pushed her hips into his in an unmistakable signal. "Love me, Thane. Please."

Thane's body responded immediately, and he held her tighter. He cherished their times together, but he didn't want her to come down from her high regretting her actions. "Siha, this isn't you." He tried to disentangle her arms as they arrived on the top floor. He got her into her cabin by the simple expedient of walking there since she refused to let go of him.

"It is me, Thane. I know she gave me something, but it's me. I need you, Thane. I need you so badly. I need to feel your hands and your lips, to forget what she did to me. Please, Thane." Shepard intermixed her requests with repeated kisses to his lips, his chin and the sensitive ribbing on his neck, even as her hands started unbuckling his coat.

Thane was startled by her admission. "Who, Siha? Who did this to you?"

"Morinth," she spat as she pushed his hands out of the way and undid another buckle.

"Who's Morinth, siha?"

The Hallex made Shepard carelessly talkative, and she was fixated on removing Thane's coat. "Samara's daughter. We set a trap. She came after me, she wanted me. Oh god, her eyes, Thane. They were so black, so empty." Shepard shivered and wrapped her arms around Thane's back and buried her face in his neck. "She made me forget you," she whimpered quietly. "I'm so sorry, so sorry."

Suddenly the pieces fell into place. Samara's daughter. No wonder the Justicar had been so bereaved. Thane held her close and buried one hand in her hair as she cried into him. "Shhh, siha. There is no need for you to be sorry."

"No, you never forget. You're a drell, and you never forget anything. You would never forget me, but she looked at me and touched me, and all I could think about were her promises and how good she was making me feel! I let you down, Thane. I forgot you. I'm so sorry. Can you ever forgive me? Please?"

He coaxed her out so he could see her face. Tears ran down her cheeks and her expression was one of misery and self-loathing. "Hush, siha. There is nothing to forgive. You were drugged, but you will soon be whole again. And I swear to you, this Morinth will pay with her life." Thane unconsciously crushed her close to him at the thought of this asari trying to take her from him.

"She already has. Samara killed her. I helped." Shepard's simple explanation was broken by a hiccup and a sniffle.

Thane's features tightened with anger, both that his lover had been threatened and that someone else had stolen his revenge. "Good," he said savagely. He urged her to the bed, but she resisted.

"No, I have to get out of this dress. _She _had her hands all over me, and this dress makes me think of her." Shepard struggled ungracefully with the zipper in the back until Thane reached up and slid it down her back. She pushed the dress down and kicked it angrily across the floor.

Thane's breath caught in his chest as his lover stood in front of him wearing only a black scrap of lace across her hips and a pair of black heels, but in the next moment, his hands clenched hard as he spotted more scratches on her breast and inner thighs.

Shepard slumped against the fish tank to take her shoes off. She was still sniffling as she threw the shoe into the door. The second soon followed and then she was sitting on the floor with her arms wrapped around her knees and her face buried in her arms. Thane could see by the motion of her shoulders that she was silently crying. He sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulders.

"Siha, I have many regrets in my life, and I have learned to live with them. But right now, none loom larger than the regret that I may not personally end the life of the one who did this to you. Know this, though. I love you and nothing will change that fact. I am proud that you had a hand in ending the one who attacked you so traitorously."

She didn't answer, but she unfolded enough to climb on his lap and bury her face against his chest. He shrugged his coat off and wrapped it around her protectively, and together they held each other until exhaustion claimed her. He pressed his lips onto the top of her head and relaxed with his siha in his arms. Slowly, sleep came for him as well.


	3. Chapter 3 - Transformation

{Takes place after end of canon ME3, destroy option}

* * *

_*BANG*_

It was an effort to lift the pistol up and fire at the junction box. Her first shot went wide.

_*BANG*_

Muscles screamed in protest. White hot agony flared in her side from a wound received earlier. She had no memory of how or when she had taken the damage, but from the amount of pain, it felt serious, if not lethal. The bullet hit, but the junction box held.

_*BANG*_

Overhead, she saw the battle between the joint fleets versus the Reapers. It looked grim. The fleets were in tatters, and far too many ships were broken and scattered above Earth. She had to be strong, just for a little while longer. Millions of people had given their lives to ensure that she would be in this place, that she would have the opportunity to end the Reaper war. Those unnamed millions weighed heavily on her conscience, just as much as her intimate friends. Her own mother was on one of those ships. She could only hope that her mother's ship was still intact.

_*BANG BANG*_

They were counting on her. She was their only hope. That thought gave her strength. She straightened up, walked faster. Her gun was steady on the target. The junction box began to shatter. She could feel them behind her, the gaze of millions of souls, dead and still alive, waiting to see if she had the strength to be their salvation. She had to. She had already destroyed so many. Her sins weighed her down, but she refused to stop.

Behind her, she could sense that conniving manifestation that called itself the Catalyst. It glared at her, but that only spurred her on. She wouldn't even consider the control option. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and she had no doubt that even with the purest of intentions, over the decades and centuries, she would turn into something morally reprehensible. And the synthesis option, even if she believed its grand claims, only represented further slavery to the machines. Yes, synthetics could be alive, but transforming every being in the galaxy against their will? The very thought made her sick to her stomach. No, the only true choice was to destroy the monsters once and for all, and hope against hope that the manifestation had been lying about what would happen to the synthetics in the galaxy. Because she would always serve the greater good, and if it truly came down to it, she would sacrifice the geth, EDI, and even more, if it meant ending the Reapers and saving the other races in the galaxy, as well as those yet to come.

_*BANG BANG*_

Flames and sparks jumped out from the control box. She was exposed here on the platform, but with her injuries, there was no way she could get to cover anyway. She would die here, and that was okay. She was tired, so very tired. One last task, one final enemy to defeat and then she could rest. She didn't believe in God, or any gods. She didn't believe there would be a Heaven waiting for her. And even though she desperately wanted to, she didn't believe that Thane would be waiting for her beyond some mystical sea. She'd been dead once and there was nothing. She died, then she woke up. No Heaven, no Hell, just oblivion. She kept walking, kept firing. How many shots were left in her heat sink? No matter. She'd destroy the junction box if she had to do it with her bare hands.

_*BANG BANG*_

The junction box shattered, and a gout of flame shot out toward her, singing her even further. The flames didn't hurt. Why was that? Nerve overload? Skin already burned? No matter. She wished she could feel the pain. All she could feel was cold. Cold on her skin, cold in her heart. So many had died in spite of all she had done. It hadn't been enough. But if she could destroy the Reapers, maybe it would balance the scales. Why was she worried about redemption if this was the end of her existence? Oblivion didn't care about her sins. That only made her think about the one she missed the most. The assassin monk who prayed for his gods to forgive his sins. His absence was the reason her heart felt so cold and empty. Only ashes left from the comforting fire of their love. He was gone, and she would never see him again. Never hold him close, never feel the soft touch of his lips on hers, the way he made her feel like the most precious thing in the galaxy.

The station shook all around her, and the bridge underfoot swayed alarmingly. It nearly knocked her off her feet. That was bad. She wasn't sure she had the strength to pick herself up again if that happened. She had to destroy the junction box and the Reapers now before her body failed.

_*BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG*_

One foot after the other, slow and steady wins the race. Was she racing to die? Maybe. She certainly wasn't avoiding it. She just hoped it wasn't as painful as the last time. She watched as the entire column collapsed in front of her. She continued to pull the trigger, but the heat sink was exhausted. No matter. Nowhere to shoot anymore. It was turning into a crumpled mass of metal and cables before her eyes.

Something hard and unyielding fell on her, pinning her to the walkway. Pain blossomed across her arm and midsection. Why had she missed pain earlier? This fucking hurt! She looked down and saw a girder pinning her down. Broken arm, probably several broken ribs. Something warm trickled down her ribs. Either her earlier wound had opened up again or she had a new puncture wound. Either way, the end would come soon.

She laid her head back on the walkway and looked up at Earth. Through the debris field she could see the blue and green of her homeworld, marred by smoke from the Reapers on Earth, but still beautiful. Her vision blurred, and with her free hand she wiped away tears. It didn't help. She still couldn't make out what was happening. Something had to happen, right? Soon? Please, God, she whispered, save them.

Immediately, she was annoyed with herself for praying to a deity she didn't even believe in. Still, at this point, she'd try anything. She used her good arm to try and push the girder off, but it was too heavy. Or she was too weak. They were the same thing. Please, she whispered again.

Her vision was turning red. She wondered if she'd taken a head wound and blood was getting into her eyes, but that wasn't it. The light was turning red. She saw the Citadel's arms open wide and red lightning started to coruscate across the surface. It was oddly beautiful.

The energy was being drawn to the center of the Citadel just above her. She watched as it gathered itself up, then lanced out into the distance. A wave of red washed over the blue and green planet above her. Naval space warfare is slow paced, but soon it became clear to her that the Reapers had stopped firing and were drifting aimlessly through space.

We did it! A smile spread across her face. All the sacrifices had been worth it. They had won!

Slipping from this life didn't seem so horrible anymore. She could feel that it wouldn't be much longer. Her fingers were numb, but she could still feel the warm wetness spreading across her back. Her lifeblood was spilling beneath her, and even if a trauma team appeared right now with bags of medigel, she doubted it would be enough. The lassitude was spreading through her body and it was getting harder to breath.

She hoped the survivors would forgive her sins, that the good she did outweighed the bad. Here, at the end of her life, she found herself suddenly uncertain about her fate. Thane's prayer came back to her. Her words were barely audible, but she shaped her lips around his prayer. "Amonkira, Lord of Hunters, I give thanks that my aim was true, my hands were steady, and my feet swift. The worst is coming to pass. Please grant me forgiveness. Thane...I love you."

The red light was fading to black now, and both pain and breath were fading away. She could feel her life slipping away, and even though she thought she was ready, her body was fighting it, trying for one more gasp. But it didn't happen. There was only blackness.

She opened her eyes, then immediately shut them again.

"I'm dead."

She peeked again. A field of dull brown and gray spread endlessly around her. Scorched earth, no plants. Overhead, the sky was an oppressive steel gray that hinted at a hazy sky, but the light source was diffused and dim.

She looked down at herself. She was still wearing the burned and tattered remnants of her Alliance underarmor, and the skin on her arms was still burnt. She reached down to her side, and her hand came away bloody, but the pain had receded to a dull ache.

"What the hell?" she asked absently as she looked around for any clue to what had happened to her. "At least, I thought I died." With every direction looking exactly the same, she simply started walking in the direction she was facing. She tried to figure out where she was. She was fairly sure it wasn't Earth; the sky was subtly wrong as was the ground. Puffs of dust followed her as she scuffed along the ground.

She felt like she had walked forever. The light didn't change, and neither did the landscape. If this was Heaven, she felt cheated. It didn't see bad enough to be Hell, either. Maybe a trauma team did reach her and she was in a coma. That thought depressed her almost more than the others. She hated the thought of being in a coma for years and years. The silence of the landscape was unnerving. No wind, no animals, no people. She tried calling out for someone, anyone. No answer.

Finally she sat down and waited. For what, she wasn't sure. She wasn't tired, which was a pity, since it would be nice to go to sleep and wait for something to change. Maybe she should try meditating. It worked for Thane and Samara. After a time, she had to admit that wasn't working either.

With a sigh, she scanned the horizon looking for something different. Her heart jumped. There was movement on the horizon.

Getting laboriously to her feet, she lurched toward the moving mass. It was too far away to make it out clearly. As she walked, the movement resolved into several tiny shapes milling about. People! She picked up her pace as much as she could, but the ache in her side flared up, forcing her to slow down again.

Finally she got close enough to see who they were. Alliance navy. Thousands of them, all milling around. She drew up short. Why were they here? Were they even really here? Some of them saw here and started walking toward her, and the rest followed like a strange, human ameba. Something was wrong, and her flight or fight instinct stirred. Unfortunately, she was in no shape to do either. As a young woman drew close, she recognized the insignia on the woman's shirt. It was one of the ships destroyed in the Battle of the Citadel, one of the ships she'd sacrificed in order to save the Ascension and the Council. It didn't take her long to realize that all of these navy personnel were from the six ships that had been destroyed by Sovereign.

"You killed us," the young woman accused. A young man took up the accusation. "You chose the Council over humanity, and they didn't even fucking care about you or about us. You should have let them die, Shepard. You should have saved us, your comrades in arms."

She shrank back, shaking her head. "No, I had to. The larger political ramifications were too important to ignore. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

The crowded around her, each of them accusing her of shirking her responsibility, refusing to listen to her reasons. She backed away, hands over her ears to try and block them out. Threading through the humans, she could see geth now. The heretic geth that she had consigned to death and destruction rather than rewriting. At the time, it had seemed the safest option. She couldn't chance the virus coming back and infecting the rest of the geth. Better to destroy them than risk a second geth war in the middle of the coming Reaper war. They didn't seem like they were willing to listen to her, though. She turned and walked away from them as fast as she could, which wasn't nearly fast enough.

She was too busy looking over her shoulder, and bumped hard into someone. "Ash!" The burgeoning smile was wiped from her lips by her former chief's glare. "Bloody alien lover," Chief Williams spat.

"Hey, Ashley, cut that out. You have no right to disparage them. Garrus, Wrex and Tali served valiantly and honorably. I'm sorry you weren't around to see all the good they did."

Ashley was still pissed off. "Yeah, we both know why that is, don't we, ma'am? Because you chose to save the pretty LT instead of me. You let me and the entire salarian strike team go down just because you had the hots for your LT. How well did that work out for you, ma'am?" Ashley's voice was heavy with sarcasm as she advanced threateningly.

Shepard winced. That last remark hit too close to home. Too many times, she'd reexamined her motives for saving Kaidan instead of Ashley, and she usually didn't like the answers she came up with. "You know what happened, Ash."

"Yeah, he finally came to his senses and saw you for what you really were, a traitorous bitch. Thank God he walked away from you. He never sold out his honor, unlike you." Ashley stabbed her in the chest with her finger.

"Enough!" Shepard still had her command voice. "I did what had to be done. It's what I've always done, worked for the greater good. The Council and Alliance wouldn't believe me, and Cerberus did. They had the resources and balls to do what had to be done, just like me. And because I did what I had to do, I stopped the Reapers. Me! Do you know what I had to sacrifice to do that, Ash? Do you? I lost everything, and I still kept going. Who else would have done that? When my heart was breaking over and over, when the burden was so heavy I didn't think I could even get out of bed, but I did! I got up and pulled the galaxy together, and we did it."

"Really? You didn't see the rest of it, did you, ma'am?" Ashley's voice was heavy and tears glimmered in her eyes. "The mass relays exploded. Every one of them. The fleets are stranded. All they have is FTL. Colonies will go dark and homeworlds will starve. You've put the galaxy back in the dark ages. You've sentenced trillions to death. In your 'victory', you've killed more than the Reapers would have. At least the next cycle would have had a chance to evolve and colonize the galaxy. Now, without the relays, life will never leave its homeworlds. Congratulations on your victory, Commander." Ashley looked at her with something like pity then walked away.

Shepard sank down to her hands and knees in the dusty plain, heedless of the armies of humans and geth approaching. "No, no, no," she moaned. "That can't be true." Ashley's accusations rang loudly in her head, and Shepard imagined the devastation that would befall a galaxy suddenly bereft of the mass relays. Economic collapse didn't even cover it. Cultural collapse, starvation, isolation...forever. Intelligent life forever imprisoned in its home system, dependent on whatever resources they had there. Each species thinking they were alone in the galaxy. The loneliness and sadness ate at her. Lost in her misery, she didn't realize a set of boots had stopped in front of her.

"Keelah, Shepard, stop moaning over the galaxy.

"Tali?" She looked up, almost afraid to hope that it was her friend.

"Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. I will have to bear the shame of that name throughout eternity."

"What? Why?"

"The Normandy is Shepard's ship. Shepard is the one who consigned my people to genocide by the geth. It's your fault that we're dead, Shepard. All of us, from the Admiralty to the smallest children still living in clean rooms." Tali's voice was full of agony. "I watched as the Flotilla rained down on Rannoch. Fighters, liveships...everything and everyone that was quarian."

Shepard stretched her arm out to Tali, remembering how she tried and failed to keep Tali from falling to her death. "Tali, I tried. I tried so hard to broker peace between the geth and the quarians. The geth would have stopped if your people would have, but they were too set on war. Why wouldn't they just listen to me?"

"Shepard, how could you even think you could stop that war with nothing more than your words over the radio? Three hundred years of war and bloodshed, and you wanted my people to stop firing in the middle of a battle? To risk annihilation by the geth?"

"But Tali, that's just what happened anyway? You were there. You know there was another path. Why wouldn't they listen?" Shepard cried in frustration. "And why did you fall? As long as you're alive, there's always hope."

"Hope, Shepard? What hope did I have? My family, my people were raining down all around me in ashes and flames. There can be no hope for me anymore. No hope for anyone." Tali turned away, muttering "No hope," over and over.

Shepard wrapped her arms around herself and tried to stop shaking. Who else, she wondered. If Garrus showed up accusing her, she didn't know how she would survive. But then, she was dead and in Hell. That was the only explanation that made sense to her anymore. The diehard atheist in her was dead wrong, and now she was paying the ultimate price, not with her life, but with her soul. If Garrus showed up now, she would have no choice but to listen to him even if it crushed her heart and soul into dust.

Yet, even now, she couldn't say she was sorry. Everything she did was because it was the right choice at the time. Why was she being punished for that? "Why?" she screamed up at the steel sky. "Why?" she sobbed.

She barely noticed the press of legs all around her. Sounds of anger, grief, and desolation surrounded her. Was this to be her fate for eternity, to listen to the wails of the damned? Why were they here, though? Shouldn't they be in heaven? Surely the entire quarian race wasn't consigned to Hell just to torment her. And did geth even have souls? That was Legion's question just before he died. She had no answer for him then, and none came to her now. If geth had souls, then what defined life?

She would have forever to ponder such questions, she realized. And the moans and sobs of those she killed would ensure she could never think about anything else.

"Leave me alone!" she screamed and covered her ears with her hands.

After a few minutes, she peeked up and realized she was alone again. Cautiously, she raised her head, then stood up. The plain was as empty and featureless as when she had first arrived. No, not quite empty. There was a single figure walking toward her. She watched warily as it drew closer.

It was a woman dressed in a flowing black dress, reminiscent of the old Greek gods. As she drew closer, Shepard could see that she had long black hair, slicked back and wet. Her eyes were completely and unnaturally black. The woman stopped in front of her, and Shepard could feel energy radiating from the woman as cold waves. She was no one Shepard recognized from her life, and they studied each other for a long, long moment.

"Do you not recognize me, child?" There was an odd quality to the strange woman's voice, almost like a harmonic or a second voice speaking along with the first. It reminded her of Thane in a painful way. Shepard shook her head.

"Look around you." The woman gestured elegantly around the plain. "This is my domain."

Shepard startled badly and stepped backward several paces. "You're the Devil?" she asked in fear.

The woman laughed in genuine amusement. "Some call me that." Her appearance shimmered, and in her place stood a red-skinned, muscled demon with horns. Shepard's heart pounded as if it wanted to escape from her chest, but before she could do anything, the demon laughed and then he looked like an old man with a long white beard. Another shift and he looked like a gorgeous, seven foot tall asari matriarch. Shepard watched in confusion as the entity shifted through a variety of forms, only a few of which were human, and even those she didn't recognize.

"I don't understand," she whispered. "Who are you?"

The entity shimmered back into the female appearance she had when she first appeared. "I have hundreds of names. As I said, you have entered my domain. Every living creature comes here eventually."

"I'm dead," Shepard said for the second time.

"Yes," the creature said gravely.

"But...but...I thought...it was just supposed to be...nothing. I didn't believe..."

She smiled softly. "There's a phrase that makes its way into every species. Humans say that just because you don't believe in god, does not mean he does not believe in you. Inside each sapient creature is a spark that makes them unique. It doesn't disappear just because the physical shell ceases to function. How else can you explain your first return from my realm?"

"Science." However, Shepard's whisper is much more question than statement.

"Science had a role to play, and without it, you never would have been able to return. But it was I who held your soul safe while they rebuilt your shell." The entity's black eyes were still unnerving, in spite of the gentleness of her tone.

"Then why didn't I remember anything?" she demanded. "That's why I lost what little faith I had. I died and there was nothing!"

She smiled sadly. "The realms are too different. It is too much for most minds to comprehend. They either reject it or make up something that conforms to their cultural expectations. Take this place, for example." She gestured at the empty plain around them. "You expected oblivion, and this is how your soul chose to interpret your circumstances."

"So where exactly am I?"

"Think of it as a waiting room. A place to adjust. To make your peace if you need. It's a place to leave behind the things you no longer need."

"What about all those people I saw earlier? Ash? Tali? What they said?"

"You were on the right track earlier, child. When you asked yourself why your friends would inhabit Hell just to torment you? They were never here. It was your guilt and despair at failing to save those you loved. That's why you come here first. You must learn to leave the negative behind. Your friends are safe, and when you are ready, you will see them again, both those already here and those who will follow later."

Shepard shook her head and laughed bitterly. "Just like that? I'm supposed to get over all my emotional and mental hangups just by deciding it? If you're really a god, you have to know what I've gone through. I can't let it go so easily. I'll be here forever."

"You don't have to do it on your own." The entity waved her hand in a complex pattern, and the brown, dusty plain faded away into a windswept highland overlooking a green ocean. She immediately recognized it for the highlands of Scotland from one of her few trips to Earth. Her mother had brought her to see the home of her ancestors. The hills were covered in purple, and the intense scent of the ocean filled the air. Overhead, seabirds cried in a haunting melody while circling through an overcast sky.

It was too much for her to comprehend. Shepard sank to her knees, but now she was cushioned by fragrant grasses and flowers. She plucked a purple flower and brought it to her nose. "Who are you," she asked plaintively. "Why are you here? So many are dead? Why are you talking to me?"

The woman sat gracefully next to her. "Why can I not speak to many at once? Still, I admit that I do not usually come so quickly to the newly arrived. Most are able to make their transition easily. You have lived through more than most, and taken decisions that have left deep scars on your psyche. But more than that, I am come at the behest of one whose heart is pure and whose love is strong. It is for his sake that I come to you now. He waits for you, child. Do you not wish to go him?"

Shepard's breath sped up and she crushed the purple flower unthinkingly. "Thane," she breathed. "Then, does that make you...Kalahira?"

The goddess nodded and her shape shimmered one more time into a drell woman with midnight blue skin and silver patterns on her skin. "It is one of my names, and that used by him who loves you. Even now, he sits by the ocean waiting for his siha. So I ask again, will you go to him?"

She shot to her feet and ran to the cliff's edge. She looked out over the ocean, hoping to see him, but all that met her gaze was the endless roll of the waves. She turned back to Kalahira in mixed hope and despair. "How?"

"You must let go the past. Let go of that which ties you here. Your work there is done."

"But...but what about what Ashley said? Did I really turn the galaxy back to a dark age by destroying the relays?"

Kalahira rose to her feet, displaying that same lithe grace that Thane had. "No, child. That was your fear speaking. Look." She nodded toward the sky. The storm clouds faded into the black of space with Earth in the foreground. Reapers floated derelict in Earth's orbit. The Citadel was still in orbit, its five arms looking singed but intact. The view shifted out to the Charon relay to show ships flickering through the relays in bursts of dark energy. The view shifted to other relays, showing the same scenes: derelict Reapers, ships returning home, and entire planets celebrating.

"Please, can I just see...please...my friends?"

The goddess smiled and the sky changed again. She saw Garrus swathed in bandages but alive. One taloned hand covered his face as his shoulders shook with unheard sobs. He was obviously mourning, and she knew why. "I'm so sorry, Garrus. I'll save you a seat at the bar..." The rest of her sentence was cut off by the sudden appearance of a completely out-of-place tiki bar that should have been on a tropical island.

"You're doing better than I thought," the goddess commented.

"What do you mean?" she asked, still staring at the palm tree standing amidst the heather.

"You control your environment here. I picked Scotland from your memories, but this bar is all your imagining."

Shepard blinked and decided to ignore the oddity in favor of seeing her other friends. She saw her mother in a medbay, Joker and EDI repairing the Normandy, Kaidan sitting behind Anderson's desk with his head in his hands. Others flickered by, many lives that she'd touched. So many that would live now, all of them free from the Reapers' shadow. It had been worth it.

With a relieved sigh, she turned back to the drell goddess. "Thank you."

Kalahira replied with a regal nod of her head. "Are you ready?"

Shepard nodded. "Only, I don't know what to do."

"You do, in your heart," the goddess told her. "You must come to the ocean. Give yourself to me and be transformed. Then you will be reunited with your love." She touched the top of Shepard's head in a gentle, loving gesture, then simply faded away.

Shepard stood in front of the tiki bar and looked out over the ocean. How had Thane described it? Cold and completely unlike what we knew, but full of life. He was waiting for her, and it was up to her to finish the journey.

She walked to the bar and pulled out the bottle of turian whiskey she knew would be there. She poured a shot and set it on the bar. "I hope you find this when you get here, Garrus. Until then, live well."

She briefly toyed with the idea of staying and trying to manipulate the landscape to her whim, but she recognized the fear of the unknown in her procrastination. No time like the present, she thought, then laughed at herself. She probably had all the time in the world. How long would it take for her to unlearn such useless phrases?

The ocean churned angrily against the cliff base as she peered over the edge. There would be no climbing down the cliff. There was only one way into Kalahira's embrace. Her heart clenched and her knees shook as she thought about taking that dive. Her mind told her that she'd be broken and crushed against the rocks at the base of the cliff. Did she really have the faith in an alien goddess to trust herself to what looked like certain and painful death? How many times could she die, anyway?

She settled down on the edge of the cliff, her legs dangling over the edge and kicking the crumbling cliff face. Tiny shards of stone rattled down the cliff to disappear silently into the waves. Was it oblivion down there? She turned her attention back to the sky. Storm clouds and a setting sun had replaced Kalahira's vision of earlier. Other than the seabirds, the landscape was devoid of animate life, but unlike when she had first awakened here, she could feel flow and pulse of life's energy around her. It was in the wind playing with her hair and sea grasses alike. It was in the bits of heather that floated by. It was in the scent of salt, kelp and fish that hung in the air. It was in the shafts of sunlight that played across the stormy, white-capped ocean spread out before her. It was beautiful.

The sun seemed to hang low in the sky forever, painting it with shades of orange and pink around the stormy blue and gray clouds. Looking behind her, she saw the first star of evening on the opposite horizon. It was comforting to know the stars were here as well. She wondered if Thane was watching her, waiting to see if she had the courage to leap into Kalahira's realm. Her imagination conjured images of him, some from memories, some made up dreams. The one that held her attention most was of him standing in the surf across this unimaginably large ocean, waiting for her to come to him.

Faith in an alien goddess she didn't have. But she had faith in Thane. She stood up and dusted off her clothes, which had morphed at some point into a pair of casual khakis and plain white t-shirt. The lethal wound in her midsection was gone, and she felt like she could run forever. Could she fly, she wondered?

She closed her eyes and tipped her head to the sun, feeling its warmth on her face, contrasting with the wind's chill on her back. A time and place to let go, hm? "Good bye, Kaidan. I'm sorry for our rift. Wrex, Grunt, I hope you're both blessed with beautiful babies." There were so many to say farewell to. She saved the hardest one for last. "Garrus, I'm so sorry I left you. You were the one person who could still make me smile...after...after he died. You're the only one I truly am sorry to be leaving behind, and I'm sorry for the pain I'm causing you again. I hope you can forgive me for not living, but my heart is elsewhere, and I just couldn't stay any longer. I'll be waiting for you at the bar, okay?"

She backed up several steps, then ran and dived off the cliff.

The air rushed past her face. She closed her eyes and thought of Thane. Her gorgeous green-skinned assassin with the hands of a killer and the soul of a poet. Images flashed through her mind. Thane dropping from Nasana's ceiling and dealing death with breathtaking grace and speed. Sitting across from her in Life Support. Dirty and singed after a mission, but triumphant. Tears trailing over his face as he admitted his fear of dying. His body moving against hers in the darkness. That was the thought she carried with her as she fell into the ocean.

The cold shocked her breath away, and she fought her body's instinct to draw breath as she sank into the unlit depths. Her lungs were screaming for oxygen as she thrashed around in the water. _Not again! _ Was she destined to die of suffocation over and over? Salt water burned in her sinuses and eyes as she clawed for the surface, but she just kept sinking.

"_Siha, just let go."_

Maybe she was hallucinating his voice. All she could hear was the frantic pounding of her heart. She could deny the demands of her body no longer. She gasped...and breathed. The ocean supported her with the comforting, if cold, feeling of water, but she could breath. She quickly breathed again, just for the pleasure of breathing.

Now she could focus on her surroundings. The water wasn't as dark as she thought. Tiny pinpricks of light glowed all around her, vaguely illuminating strange shapes only half seen. She stopped falling and instead felt herself moving with the current. There was nothing left for her here. No mission, no war, no responsibilities. Even Thane was but a promise of something yet to come. For the first time, she felt like she could truly lay down her burdens. Her life was behind her. Her future was unknown. There was only her. She wasn't giving up; she was giving in.

For the first time in years, she prayed. "Deliver me." She lay back and gave herself to the arms of the ocean.

* * *

Golden light rippled over her. It was the first new sensation she could remember in a very long time. She opened her eyes and was disoriented. She was in shallow water looking up at the waves crashing overhead. Suddenly she felt the need to breathe air again. She struggled to the surface and gasped in clean, fresh air just in time for a breaker to crash over her head and send her tumbling down against the sandy bottom. Again she struggled to the surface and saw the shore just a few feet away. She choked on a mouthful of salt water and tried to time her breathing to coincide with the troughs of the heavy waves. She didn't know how to swim, and the waves kept knocking her off her feet.

Suddenly there was a strong pair of hands around her waist, and she felt a hard body press against her back, shielding her from the waves.

"I have you, siha."

That low rumbling voice made her heart soar. "Thane!" She tried to turn around, but he held her fast and walked them both to the shore. He let her go only long enough to turn and face him, then he crushed her against him as if he never planned to let her go again. She did the same, holding on so tightly she felt like she was trying to meld into his body. "Thane, Thane," she was crying. "You're really here."

"I promised I would wait for you across the sea, my love."

The tears running down her face mixed with the seawater on her cheeks. She was crying and laughing at the same time as she pulled back just enough to cup his face in her hands. She ran her fingers over his cheek and down the soft velvet of his neck ribbing. He looked so good. He looked healthy and strong.

For his part, Thane was peppering her face with delicate kisses and murmuring soft adorations. "I prayed for you," he whispered.

"I know," she whispered back. "Kalahira told me."

He drew back in astonishment. "You saw her?"

She nodded. "She said she came because of you. Because of your love. You saved me, Thane," she whispered as she kissed him again. He tasted of salt and tears and the alien coffee and spice mixture that was uniquely him.

Tears were flowing down his cheeks, reminding her of that night that seemed so long ago. Only this time, he was the one gathering her in his arms, lending her his strength. It started to dawn on her that finally they were together, without the threat of war or illness looming over them. She buried her face in his neck and cried in joy.

"Never let me go," she whispered.

"Never," he returned fiercely.

* * *

{Author's note. I don't do many of these. I was really, really, really upset at both Thane's storyline in ME3 and at the ending. I felt cheated on both accounts, and in my other fanfics, Thane lives. But as I played the game, my story Shep was heartbroken and only the overwhelming burden of duty and responsibility kept her moving. When her duty was fulfilled, she truly had no desire to live anymore. Her faith had been broken by her return from the dead with no memories of an afterlife, and she felt so guilty over the many, many deaths caused by her actions. I think it would be too much to bear for any human soul, especially one that was damaged to begin with. I felt like she deserved her happy ending, even if it was after death. So I had to write this to get it out of my head and move on with brighter futures and stories in alternate timelines.

The imagery for this story is heavily inspired by the song "Never Let Me Go" by Florence and the Machine. When I hear it, I think of Shepard being saved by Thane's faith and love for her.}


	4. Chapter 4 - Beginning

"Beginning"

Thane was nervous. He was never nervous. The hanar and drell instructors had trained him to deal with stressful situations, to assess conditions and adapt to changes. But they had never covered situations like this.

He stalked to the end of the hallway, then back again. Even in his agitated state, he made almost no noise. Aside from his pacing, the only outward sign of his anxiety was the staccato tap of his fingers against the heavy fabric of his pants. His entire life was upended, the carefully constructed pieces of his sense of order scattered to the winds and tide. Ever since his parents had given him to the Compact, he knew where he fit in the world, and he was good at it. His instructors, although they never said so directly, were pleased and sometimes amazed at his abilities. He was one of the youngest ever to be released to active duty, and he took pride in his work. For years now, he had lived his life with control as the defining characteristic, but now he could feel that control slipping through his fingers.

He shook his head. Who was he fooling? He had lost control in the space of a single heartbeat a year ago and never gained it back, no matter how hard he tried. He was no follower of Arashu, goddess of love and home life. His patron gods were Amonkira and Kalahira, the Lord of the Hunt and the Lady of Death. Even then, his religious convictions were tenuous, a holdover from dim memories of his parents. The instructors didn't encourage religion in their students. The danger of them questioning their roles was too high.

So why was he clutching Arashu's token so tightly that the points of the silver crescent were digging through the scales of his palm? He forced himself to walk over to a window and stand still. The building was in the center of one of the drell habitat domes built by the hanar centuries ago. A beautiful garden was laid out before him, but he stared at it with unseeing eyes.

Now he didn't even have the security of the Guild to rely on. He had asked permission to leave, and the hanar had granted it without question. They knew that when one of theirs had been lost to love, he could no longer fulfill his duties as before. The risks became too high, both for the assassin and for those who sent him out. It's why the Assassin's Guild was modeled on a monastic life and students were taught to deny their emotions and the demands of their body.

But the old gods had a way of making themselves known, and when Arashu had shown herself to Thane that night, he knew immediately that he was lost. _Sunset eyes staring defiantly back at him through the scope._ All the old stories his mother told him came to life that night. Stories of sihas, the warrior angels of Arashu. Even though she couldn't see him, she looked straight at him and claimed his heart.

He had wandered aimlessly for hours afterward, ignoring the calls from his handlers. He was sure it was no accident when he looked up and found himself outside Arashu's temple. He entered and touched the salt water from the sacred bowl at the entrance to his brow. _What do you want of me, goddess_, he asked silently. The answer came immediately. _Find her, confess, seek absolution._ He bowed his head in acceptance.

It took him three weeks to find her. In the meantime, his hanar handlers tried to talk him out of his obsession, as they named it. His drell instructor had talked to him for ten minutes, then nodded, bowing to the goddess' will. The hanar were much more difficult to convince. It wasn't until they sent him out on another mission, and he failed to complete it because of his distraction, that they, too, accepted that he had been lost to them.

When he found her, he had dropped to his knees before her. Without even knowing her name, he begged her forgiveness, called her siha. Miracle or Arashu's will, but she took his hand in hers and granted it. Green scales against light orange. A gentle soul that nonetheless possessed a core of strength equal to his own. Arashu blessed them again a few months later, and now here he was, stalking the hallways of the hospital, clutching the goddess' token and whispering prayers for the safety of his wife and soon-to-be-born child.

Without the Guild, without his profession, he had no idea how he would provide for his new family, but he pushed that worry aside. For now, it would be enough to have a family to call his own, something that he had never considered possible in his young life.

Finally, when his patience had been strained to the breaking point, the nurse came to get him. The smile on her face told him all he needed to know. He ran into Irikah's room, then stopped dead when he saw her cradling their newborn in her arms. "It's a boy," she whispered and pressed a kiss against his tiny brow. "Kolyat." She held out a hand to Thane and gave him a brilliant smile. He sank onto the bed next to her, touching the tiny cheek in awe.

When she handed the babe to him, he was more afraid that he'd ever been in his life. "What if I..."

"You won't drop him," she reassured him with a laugh. "You're his father. Everything will be fine, Thane. We're a family now."

A family. A wife and child. It was all so different from everything in his past that he was still struggling to understand his place in this new world. But holding his newborn son in his arms and with his wife at his side, he was ready for his new beginning.


	5. Chapter 5 - Letters

"Letters"

To: cmdrshepard .com

From: jmshepard .ea

Subject: Is that you, sis?

We stopped at the Citadel on our way to Nos Astra last week, and I heard something I couldn't believe. Is this really you, sis? There was all this talk about Commander Shepard coming back from the dead, or that you'd been hiding out somewhere, and it's all a big conspiracy or something. But when I went looking, no one knew how to get hold of you. I checked at the Earth Embassy, and apparently my name got me a phone call to someone called Anderson. He said that you were alive, but he wouldn't give me any more information, even when I told him I was your brother. I finally had to bribe one of the other guys in the company to help me track down your email address. I hope this is you, sis, but Cerberus? Mom's gonna have a conniption fit when she finds out. Or have you already been in touch with her? Please write back, even if you're not my sister. I have to know.

Love and hugs,

John

* * *

To: jmshepard .ea

From: cmdrshepard .com

Subject: Re: Is that you, sis?

Um, yeah, it's me, John. Hey, sorry that I didn't get in touch sooner. It's been complicated. Like, really complicated. No way am I putting it all in an unsecure email. Let's just say that I was pretty much unavailable for the past two years and just got back to galactic society and leave it at that.

Yeah, I know the Cerberus thing is a shock. Wasn't anything I planned on. It just sorta happened, but it's a solid job, and it's important. You know me, John. I wouldn't be working with them if it wasn't.

Nos Astra, eh? Sounds like you're hitting the big time, little brother. How's the dancing going?

M

* * *

To: cmdrshepard .com

From: jmshepard .ea

Subject: Re: Is that you, sis?

You hadn't heard? I'm crushed, sis. Although if you really were out of touch, maybe I'll forgive you. If you give me your dessert for the next month. Ha ha. I'm headlining with the dance company on Nos Astra! Look us up on the extranet. Danse de L'Esprit, one of the biggest dance companies on Earth. This trip to NA is huge! It's the first time any Earth dance company has been invited to perform there. Maybe finally the rest of the galaxy will start to appreciate Earth art. Don't suppose you can find time to swing by NA? I'll get you front row tickets. We'll be there for the next two months, so hurry up.

What exactly are you doing for Cerberus, anyway? And you didn't tell me if you'd talked to Mom yet or not. I know you, so I haven't told her that I'd talked to you yet, but I will soon, so you better fess up to her. I think if you don't talk to her first, there's a better than even chance that she'll reroute the _Kilimanjaro _to track you down, and she'll tell the Alliance to go take a hike when they complain, so just talk to her already, will you?

John

* * *

To: jmshepard .ea

From: cmdrshepard .com

Subject: Dance Star

Holy crap! You're headlining? You mean someone actually thinks you can dance for crap? :) Just kidding, little brother. Can't really call you little, anymore, can I? I looked up your dance company. Okay, I'll admit it, you look awesome, John. That vid clip was amazing. Did they turn down the g's in the studio? I seriously didn't think you could jump that high.

I can't guarantee it, but there's a pretty good chance I'll be back by Ilium while you're still there, so I'll definitely stop by. I'd like to see you again, John. Then I can fill you in on what I've been up to. No, I haven't talked to Mom yet, and don't you dare mention this to her. Don't give her this address, either. I have enough to deal with as it is, and I don't have time to answer all her questions. I've already got issues with the Alliance, and the last thing I need is her jumping in and muddying things up even more. Like I said, it's complicated.

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To: cmdrshepard .com

From: jmshepard .ea

Subject: Re: Dance Star

Listen up, Hopscotch. I'm not going to hold out on Mom forever. She was pretty torn up. She thought you were dead. We all did, for fuck's sake. She's probably heard the same news I did, or one of her Alliance contacts probably told her you were back. She deserves to hear from you, not listen to the news gossip about your latest exploits. Have you seen your news feed? You're being called a rogue Spectre, AWOL to the Alliance, a terrorist leader, lots of other crap. There was something about you being involved with the murder of a prominent business asari here in Nos Astra a few weeks ago and tearing through a bunch of Eclipse mercs. There's all kind of shit about you on the news. At the very least, you need to get Cerberus to give you a PR person. You may be my big sister and a big hotshot in the Alliance, but this doesn't sound like you. I know I wasn't suited for military life and we went our very different ways, but we're still family, and I'm worried about you. I'm also worried about Mom. You didn't see her. It was pretty bad. So suck it up and at least send her a message.

John

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To: cmdrshepard .com

From: jmshepard .ea

Subject: Re: Dance Star

Hey, sis. What's up? It's been five days and you haven't replied. Did you get pissed off at me? That's nothing new. You know, it's pretty frustrating learning your big sister is back from the dead, only being able to communicate via email, and having no idea where you're actually at. Your last message drop came from Tuchanka. What are you doing with the krogans? That place sounds like a hell hole, to be honest.

Gotta run. Next show starts in two hours. Write soon, okay, sis?

John

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To: cmdrshepard .com

From: jmshepard .ea

Subject: Hello?

Now I'm starting to worry. It's been 8 days, sis. Ain't nowhere in the galaxy where a ship is more than 8 days away from a comm drop. Can I guilt you by saying the worry is affecting my performance? I nearly dropped my partner last night on a big throw. You should have heard her bitch me out after the show. I think I learned some new curse words in Russian. I managed to catch her, so I don't know what she was so unhappy about, but I wrenched my shoulder. I'm lucky that tonight's dark, and my shoulder should be better tomorrow.

Still worried about ya. Write soon.

John

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To: jmshepard .ea

From: cmdrshepard .com

Subject: Re: Hello?

Sorry about the wait, little brother. Cleared out a merc base and it turned out be more heavily fortified than we first thought. Was in the medbay for a little while, but everything's fine. Just part of the job.

I've been thinking about what you said. Really. One of my crew caught me reading your email and started guilting me, too. He just reconciled with his son after ten years, and seeing how happy he is made me think about Mom.

Anyway, I mainly wanted to tell you that some business came up for me on Ilium. We're headed there soon, so save me some tickets, okay? After the show, I'll take you on a tour of the Normandy. She's an amazing ship, John. Can't wait to show her off. I'll let you know our arrival date when we get closer.

Looking forward to seeing you again.

M

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To: hashepard22 .ea

From: cmdrshepard .com

Subject: Hey Mom. Surprise!

Yeah, it's really your daughter. It's a long story, and I bet you already heard most of it from Hackett and Anderson. Let me give you my side, okay? Oh, and Mom...I love you.

...


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